


Whaler Shenanigans

by TheatricalAssassin



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Decisions, Canon-Typical Violence, Cooking Lessons, Daud is here if you squint, Dialogue Heavy, Family Meal, Floor is Lava, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Humor, Impersonating a Deity, Minor Character Death, Mission Failure, Questionable Cooking, Reconnaissance Mission, River Krusts, Self Immolation, Supply Runs, Team as Family, Training, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7295179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheatricalAssassin/pseuds/TheatricalAssassin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working for Daud the Whalers have gained quite the fearsome reputation. The Knife of Dunwall has many shadows in the night, but those many shadows also get up to some, shenanigans, from time to time</p>
<p>A collection of drabbles, all relevant triggers/content warnings will be in the notes at the start of every chapter</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three Novices get leave for the night, and end up having a cooking adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of Vomiting
> 
> Whalers in this Chapter: Desmond, Pickford, Pratchett (OC), Billie Lurk, and Thomas

On evenings where the sky is clear and one can almost see the night sky there is a good chance you’ll find Dunwall’s own brand of desperados outside finding ways to get into trouble. Some prefer to keep it simple, whiskey and cigars. Others may prefer a game of Nancy, and others more may just want to drink.  All the ones who aren’t _quite_ out of their 20’s are out raising hell and annoying the Watch and their neighbors. However, in the remains of the Financial District one may be able to see another group of street rats who are finding their own ways to entertain themselves.

These kids are often called “Whalers” due to the fact that they wear the same biohazard suits that the men of the same profession wear out to sea. However while the men out at sea may catch and prepare the whales for the slaughter house these ruffians spill blood for coin, any who have enough to cover the cost of the job. These are Daud’s Whalers, the assassins who work directly under The Knife of Dunwall. It isn’t know how they operate, or how he brings them into his service. Rumors vary from “volunteers” to “conscription”, none other than Daud and the Whalers know for certain how they are brought into the assassination business.

On this night, a group of three novices managed to get leave from one of the masters to go about The Flooded District at their leisure for the evening. These novices were Desmond, Pickford, and Pratchett. They rushed the rooftops jumping and leaping from one to another racing down the way away from the base as fast as they possibly could. Desmond slide to a stop at the edge and kneeled down.

“Guys, look at this” he says waving over the other two “River Krusts”

“Great, means that we can’t go that way” Pratchett said disgruntled “I think I know a different way around”

The taller Whaler rested his arm on his shoulder “Oh Pratchett if I didn’t know better,” Pickford said, a smile almost audible under his mask “I would think you were scared”

“What?!” he said jerking away from him “I’m not scared! I fuckin eat a river krusts for breakfast!”

“You wanna bet?” Pickford leans to eye level with the short Whaler

“I bet you 10 coin that I can do it” Pratchett said, snarl evident in his tone “I’ll eat it no problem”

“If you two are done,” Desmond interjects “how exactly do you suggest we _get_ a river krust, because I sure as hell am not going down there.”

Slowly coming to the realization that one of them would, in fact, have to go down there and kill and collect a river krust almost made it look like the two would call off the bet. Almost.

“Well I’m not going down there” Pratchett said crossing his arms

“Yes but aren’t you the one who said that you’d eat one?” Pickford said

“And how am I gonna do that if I bite the big one?” His posture stating pure defiance in moving from that exact spot “I’m not goin, and besides Pickford, you should be the one to get it. Since you’re so confident that you’re gonna get Master Daud to notice you”

Desmond watched them, wondering if these two idiots were going to move at all. Finally Pickford huffed and stood on the edge of the rooftop.

“You’re going to eat your words Pratchett” he said before jumping down

“And here I thought I was going to eat a river krust”

“You both are going to regret this” Desmond said, sure that this was going to end badly

Pickford, being armed with only his sword, had to be creative about how he went about _getting_ the Void forsaken mollusk. Outsider forbid he actually gets that acid on him, they’d all seen what it can do and how fast it eats through clothing, even industrial uniforms like theirs. He took a deep breath, this was going to be just as dangerous as it was stupid. Giving himself a quick pat down to make sure that he wasn’t armed with anything else and finding nothing he drew his sword.

Peering around a corner to get a better idea of what the area looked like, he got a brilliant idea. All he needed was a rock and that ten gold would be all his. Transversing to a perch just above the river krust he readied his rock and aimed. It had to piss off the creature enough to get it to open up and then he could drop down on it. Throwing with all his might the rock bounced off the shell of the creature and it let out a hiss. Pickford’s heart raced, there wasn’t much time to get this right. Diving sword first he barely made it as it screeched and became still. He took a breath and stood up proper. Taking his blade out of the river krust he shook it about away from him, hoping to get it’s fluids off of his blade. After that display, he kicked at it trying to get it loose from the ground so that he may carry it back to the others.

Quickly he transversed back to them carrying the mollusk in his arms.

“I cannot fucking believe you” Desmond says incredulously “Either of you”

The trip back was quick, they needed to get back to base and use it’s kitchen as it was probably the only place in the district that had a working stove (that didn’t belong to the Watch anyway) and cook it. The one thing that the two could agree on was that it needed to be cooked before eaten.

“Since you actually got it, I’ll cook it” Pratchett said “Why risk your life twice?”

“That’s only if someone’s already _using_ the kitchen. It’s 10pm, well after when dinner is” Desmond said “Besides how exactly were you going to cook it? You don’t exactly know how to cook anything more complicated than pasta”

“I was going to throw it into a pan but by all means Desmond if you’ve got a better idea feel free to cook it yourself” Pratchett said nervously “I actually have no idea how to cook things like this”

“Thankfully you have a third party in on this nonsense.” Desmond’s voice was filled dread at this whole idea

Pickford and Pratchett sat in what had been claimed as the Dining Hall by the Whalers, it was large and the lot of them managed to get enough tables for all of them to eat together in the room if they so chose. Thinking that the “food” would be there soonish the two took off their masks and left them on the table. The wait began, and they waited in silence. It was killing the both of them, this was worse than waiting for a target to get home. Pratchett fell asleep and Pickford found someone’s copy of The Young Prince of Tyvia laying on the table, yet again.

Finally Desmond burst through the door, the sudden loud noise scaring Pratchett awake and causing Pickford to throw the book to the other side of the room. Before they managed to compose themselves the awful smell hit them causing both to gag.

“I honestly can’t tell if it’s supposed to smell like that or if you did something to it” Pickford said barely hiding his disgust

“Look, it’s a river krust, I tried to _actually properly_ cook the damned thing but there’s just no saving some things” Desmond spat

Pratchett eyed the concoction nervously, it was not unlike a witch’s brew to him “Are you sure it’s cooked”

“Yes I’m sure.” Desmond huffed

“Alright Pratchett time to make good on your word” Pickford said, clearly a smile starting to grow that ten gold just waiting to get into his purse.

Saying nothing Pratchett grabbed a fork and gave the mess of a plate one confidant glance before trying to tear it apart. Eating it as quickly as he could he was determined to make sure that he won this bet. After about the fourth bite into it he could feel his body desperately trying to get rid of the horrid creation, but he was not about to lose, swallowing more of the foul meat Pratchett powered through. The three hadn’t noticed that Thomas and Billie Lurk had wandered in.

“What’s going on?” Thomas asked

“Bad life choices” Desmond responded

“The usual then?” Billie added

“Yup” Desmond continued to watch a disaster to be

Throwing the fork down Pratchett stood looking positively _awful_ and glared at Pickford.

“There...” he paused, having to fight the sick back down “I did it ya bastard. Now pay up”

Without a word Pickford handed the sick Whaler a coin of ten, and almost as soon as he took it Pratchett booked it for the window, horrible retching sounds quickly filling the air. As well as laughter from Billie and Desmond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic in six years and this is what I do with it


	2. The Outsider Walks Among Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three Master Assassins get a contract from Daud and try to figure out how to get to their taget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: self immolation
> 
> Whalers in this chapter: Montgomery, Javier, and Kieron

The mission was simple. The target was inside the Abbey of the Everyman, he worked late so his office hours as far as the whalers were concerned were till midnight. Three assassins watched the Overseers patrol the ground below. Montgomery fiddled with his pouches, Javier timed the patrols, and Kieron knelt with a thoughtful expression hidden behind his industrial mask.

Ever since Corvo took out the High Overseer all the plans that they previously had to get in and out of the building were almost completely thrown out the window, which most of the Whalers were convinced that he used to get in. Whatever path he’d used, no one knew _how_ he got in. Which provided quite the problem for both Overseers and Whalers, for the former they couldn’t just fortify one thing and for the latter they couldn’t hope to get to the Overseer without getting spotted unless they were able to find an easier way in.

“Does anyone have any ideas yet?” Montgomery asked “We can’t sit here all night, if we sit here too long we’ll have missed our window and I’m _not_ about to go chasing down some Overseer because we lost track of where he’s supposed to be”

“Well, coming in from this way is obviously a bad idea.” Javier started

“No shit” Montgomery interrupted “That’s the front entrance”

“As I was saying, the patrols never go very far from each other and they always seem to have at least one other in their line of sight. On top of the ones who are stationary” he explained

“Like I said, it’s the front entrance, of course it’s going to be the most guarded.”

“If this is the front, what is the inside like? We can’t exactly walk in for scouting, and there’s only so much we can glean from peeking in their windows” Javier mused

“If they’re as scared as I think they are right now, the inside is probably worse. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d doubled security at all posts” Montgomery added

“These places always have a side entrance, they have to get their deliveries somehow” Javier pointed out

About this time both realized that the third hadn’t said a word, he continued to stare and neither of the two could follow his gaze. He stood, motioning for them both to be quiet and to follow him. The three began to move quickly across the rooftops, not so fast to alert others to their position but enough to cover ground. They came to the end of the housing nearby but none stopped, taking a leap they transversed from lamppost to lamppost keeping off the streets at all costs. Kieron stopped and slid down the lamppost just enough to allow for another to stand on it just as Javier transversed right behind him and followed suit leaving Montgomery to squat on top of it. Then the third Whaler finally spoke.

“Here, there’s a way to get in this way, we’ll have to dodge more patrols and possibly even some Arc Pylons depending on how spooked they are.” Kieron whispered “However this way is one of the better ways to sneak in given what we _do_ know”

“We _don’t_ know anything Kieron, that’s why we’re being so cautious” Montgomery hissed

“Do you want to go back to base and tell Daud how we couldn’t eliminate the target?” he threatened “Because I am not going back until that Overseer is dead” he dropped from the lamp as the Overseer patrolling that section of the street left a considerable distance.

“Seriously, I’m not going to have Daud angry with me. He’s already having issues after the last job he went on” Javier added as he too left the relative safety of lamppost.

With a sigh, Montgomery gave in and followed his colleagues. As he quietly approached he saw Javier fumbling with the door. It appeared that it was locked and that he was trying to pick it, something that he need to get done fast because three men in industrial suits near Clavering is not exactly the definition of “inconspicuous” by any means. Footsteps of a patrol began to get louder and louder and the Overseer approached, Montgomery and Kieron motioned for Javier to hurry up with the lock. With a soft click the door was unlocked and Javier breathe a sigh of relief, but not before Montgomery barreled through it dragging both him and Kieron.

With the door shut firmly behind them the three quickly began to sneak through the Backyard of the Abbey, and Montgomery was right. The Overseers were spooked after what Corvo did, and security had been doubled at the least. Just as Keiron mentioned before, there were some of Sokolov’s Arc Pylons in various high traffic parts of the yard. Every ground patrol had a wolfhound, there was men on all rooftops and there was little to get around them, as each had another in their line of sight, making a silent but non-lethal takedown rather difficult. However, as far as these three were concerned, nothing was impossible.

“Alright Kieron,” Javier started “You got us this far, what now?”

“Well...” he said “I have a plan”

“I was hoping that you did, because we’re still sitting ducks out here” Montgomery said impatiently

“I just need a few things.” Kieron’s voice betrayed the devious expression that his mask hid from his comrades as he began to explain his plan

Javier made his way over to a power junction box, following the power cables to the Pylons is not difficult but dodging both them and Overseers is a bit of a trick. He waited on a air conditioner before a Overseer/Wolfhound pair left, tapping his finger on the metal to count the seconds before the next patrol came. With each tap marked a second passing, Javier’s heart pounded in time with each tap anxiously waiting for the next Overseer or Wolfhound to round the corner. Tap tap tap, thirty seconds went by, tap tap tap, footsteps approach. A wolfhound pants as it and it’s handler approach. The whaler tapped against the air conditioner at a steady beat, counting the seconds until the pair had walked out of sight.

Taking a moment to calculate Javier managed to get an approximation of the patrol times. About a minute apart, with variations depending on if the Overseer or the hound stopped while outside of his vision or if their pace sped up or slowed down, he had about a minute to get there, but how long would it take him to disable the junction box? For this to work as well as they need it to, they can’t use take out _only_ the Arc Pylons, they need to lose power to the whole building. Change of plans it looks like.

Originally, they weren’t going to kill any Overseer but the target. However it this is to work then there is a need for at least one death, not like anyone would miss the bastard. Javier transversed from his spot on the ac behind the Overseer who stood on a rooftop above the pathway he’d been watching. Moving quickly he covered the man’s mouth, rather the part of his mask that was shaped to look like one, and stabbed him. Holding the body Javier transversed towards the Arc Pylon nearest to him, with the dead Overseer in front of him the Pylon didn’t activate. He moved closer to it and threw the body and it’s sword directly into the workings of the Pylon, transversing away the moment he didn’t have the protection of The Overseer. The body turn into ash mere seconds after hitting the Pylon and the sword did not help anything much at all. The alarm started to sound as the mechanisms failed.

Transversing back to his spot on the air conditioner Javier a good vantage point to see what chaos he just caused. The alarm went on for only a moment more before the Arc Pylon exploded in a blast of fantastic light and smoke. Then, the whole of the yard went dark. Overseers yelled trying to find each other, and the offending Whaler simply activated Void Gaze to see the panicked Overseers fumble around in the dark, tripping over each other, the wolfhounds, the remains of the broken machinery. Everything had gone dark, and it was all thanks to that blast.

The three assassins regrouped, ready for what is supposed to be the next step in the plan. Javier carried nothing, Montgomery had some copper wire, and Kieron had a bottle of processed whale oil.

“Okay, I’ll bite” Javier started “What the hell is all this for”

“The plan” Kieron said simply “And, given how I can’t see past my face without Void Gaze I take it that the security was taken care of?”

“Not only that but probably the whole block’s power, they’ll be recovering from this for a while” Javier said proudly

“This’ll make it all the more dramatic” Kieron said “Now, who gets the oil?”

“Not me, I just went toe to toe with a Arc Pylon” Javier said

“Let me, I want to give them the scare of their life and I already know what I’m going to say” Montgomery said excited at the prospect

They quickly began wrapping the wire around Montgomery, trying to thread it through his existing harness so that this wouldn’t hurt him too much. As soon as it was done Kieron and Javier looked it over, and was 30% certain that he wouldn’t die from this stunt, but they elected to not tell him that. Then began the fun part. The duo then began slathering Montgomery in whale oil, it was processed and under the right conditions could burn blue rather than red. They covered his entire outer coat, legs, his hood, and his boots.

“Ready?” Kieron asked

“You know it”

The whaler who then transversed closer to the Overseers who had begun to compose themselves and regroup, just out of range of their pistols but within full view of them.

“ **the void has risen up against you.** ” Montgomery’s naturally deep voice echoed across the Yard “ **eternal chaos awaits those who do battle against the outsider.** ” Kieron motioned for Javier to pull and follow Montgomery as he walked, the Whaler quickly started to ‘float’ “ **all men who combat the outsider shall suffer the eternal discord of the void.** ” With a wide swooping movement Montgomery was able to light a match and set the whale oil ablaze “ **submit now or suffer the wrath of your god.** ”

The Overseers began to scream and scatter pushing each other over in the haste to get the farthest away from ‘The Outsider’ as possible

“ **the rending of your souls will take scarcely a wiggle of the great outsiders finger** ” He projected through the yard, terrifying the remaining Overseers who dared stay.

There was hardly a soul left in the Yard as the Overseers who were all stationed there had fled at the sight of The Outsider, except for one, their target. Montgomery, still burning and with the aid of his companions was able to keep up the image by transversing away and Kieron drops onto him blade first.

“I can’t wait to file _this_ report, something tells Daud is going to enjoy reading about this”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came about because me and a group of friends were watching the Princess Bride and then talked about the Whalers doing this exact thing. And thus, this chapter was born. Thank you Joshua for helping with "The Outsider"'s dialogue


	3. Nutritional Value

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training woes as new recruits learn the hard way that they aren't as invulnerable as they'd like to be after gaining Daud's abilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whalers present in this chapter: Morrison (oc), Rulfio, Rico (oc), Baniere (oc), Billie Lurk, Thomas, Everhart (oc)

One thing, that was insufferably common with rookies when their powers manifested, was when they decided that food was optional. Of course they eventually do learn that they _do in fact need to eat_ and come to the mess and get some food. However, thankfully Morrison knew that these now supernatural idiots were their idiots. Daud had saw fit to bestow upon him and Rulfio a new batch of rookies to train, and their newness stuck out like a sore thumb. Each one was trying desperately to break their new uniforms in faster, obviously uncomfortable in the heavy industrial suits.

“So Rulfio, you know which ones you’re taking?” Morrison asked

“I believe it’ll be most efficient to split them up evenly, I will take the right half” He said as he “divided” the group with his finger-guns, why by the void he always did this was beyond the other trainer

“I agree, let’s get to work” Morrison said clapping his hands together, mostly to scare the recruits “Recruits! Today marks your first official days as Whalers. Now, it’s probably only been a couple hours since Daud’s extended the bond to you and I hope you got a good night's sleep because Outsider’s Blood you are not going to until Rulfio and I decide you are trained. Is that understood?”

“Sir!” all of the snapped a salute a little off beat of each other

“Good. Now, my five follow me” Morrison waved at them as he walked away from the barracks

Walking to the training area that Morrison had claimed as his a hushed voice came from behind him and a slightly louder one, oh of course two of them were talking.

“Why does he sound like he’s gargling gravel?” the first questioned

“Maybe he smokes, Master Daud’s voice was pretty rough and I could smell the cigars on him from the other side of his office” the second concluded

“You two!” Morrison barked “What are your names?”

“Rico sir!” the first said, snapping to attention

“I, uh, my name’s Thomas sir!” the second stumbled out

“Please tell me you have a last name” he could already feel the irritation coming from calling his Novice and the Master Assassin comes

“Baniere, sir!”

“Thank the Outsider” Morrison mutters “You two, since you’re feeling chatty why don’t you demonstrate to the rest of us how Tethering works.”

“What?” Rico asked very confused

“Tethering, of course you know how it all works. With how the two of you are conversing I can only assume that you’ve been fully informed about how this all works. Go on, don’t be shy. See that dummy over there?” Morrison pointed to the array of training dummies he’d set up “Show the rest of the squad the proper way to bring it in close for the kill”

It didn’t take much, Rico was apparently very willing to “prove” himself. Bouncing from one foot to the other he reached out like he’d probably seen other Whalers do and... nothing. His hand appeared to be shaking just slightly, like he was really straining to get it. Ah there it is, he took a step forward his hand still outstretched towards the dummies. Rico’s arm fell and he let out a breath he was apparently holding, why do rookies always hold their fucking breath.

“Right. Now, tell me how you were trying to do it Rico” Morrison said really wishing he had a cigarette

“I was trying to grab it.” he said curtly

“Well, you have the right idea. It is kind of like grabbing” the trainer started “But you’re going about it in a too physical mindset, you’ve still not gotten that you aren’t actually grabbing the dummy.” Morrison reached towards the dummy and in what looked effortless to the recruits the dummy flew to his side. Setting it down he addressed the squad “In an controlled environment like this, your target will be stationary until we move on to the more advanced technique. The reaching you see is not because we _have_ to, it’s because we need to be able to catch whatever we are pulling towards us be that whale oil, bullets, or even a person you’ll need to be able to catch what you are tethering. This, however, allows one to gain a focus point. Think about it like shifting your weight to the other foot, but instead you are letting the power build in your non-dominant hand, when you reach out your hands shouldn’t strain you should just let it be.”

“Sir!” Baniere called out “I have a question”

“What is it?”

“I saw some of the other Whalers holding the others in place in mid-air, how do we do that?” He asked, suddenly unsure of his question

“Baniere try not to get ahead of yourself, you have to learn how to catch before you can start holding something in place. Now that I’ve explained that. I want the lot of you to try tethering these sandbags, trust me they are easier than the dummies.” Morrison pointed at the pile of sandbags before the squad rushed over to try it out ’ _Here comes the good part_ ’ he thought right as one of them pelted themselves in the face with a sandbag.

He watched them pull sandbags to themselves and try to catch them and find the right balance of when to tether and when to stop for several hours. It was beginning to get dark, and he knew that this part of their training was done for today. Dismissing them they all gladly left the training area, returning to the barracks for a meal and some sleep, Outsider knows they’ve earned it. Deciding to take the scenic route Morrison walked back to the mess hall, coming just in time for dinner. He caught Daud grabbing a plateful of food before vanishing back to his office, ‘ _looks like tonight wasn’t a night to eat with the men_ ’ Morrison thought. He did see Billie Lurk and Thomas sitting with the other Masters, swapping stories of missions almost gone awry when they were but Novices.

“And then this Guard, he’d heard the body hit the floor and come upstairs to investigate what happened” Thomas said

“And let me guess, you apologized to him for disturbing him?” Billie commented

“No I didn’t,” he said offended “He didn’t find me or my target”

“I’m surprised, because if I remember correctly you weren’t exactly the most subtle novice”

“We giving Thomas a hard time again?” Morrison asked

He joined the masters at the table and the swapping of stories continued, Billie told of how she hid inside of a dumbwaiter for several hours for her target, but this all stopped dead once the group realized. There was only one roll left on the table, and there was no hope of going farther down to get another as it would be gone before they arrived. A staredown began. Billie vs Thomas vs Morrison. Three Whalers entered the Thunderdome and only one would leave victorious. Billie jumped to her feet and lunged for the roll, but not before Thomas blocked her and pushed her back. Morrison tried to use this opportunity to take the roll while they were preoccupied however this failed as both of them knew exactly what he was doing and both kicked him in the chest with a snap. As he fell Billie and Thomas focused back on each other, she struck him with a palm strike hitting the right of his jaw knocking his head back and she went in for the kill. A quick and final strike to the throat and Thomas was on the floor gasping for air, she turned and took the remaining roll and bit into it triumphantly.

Once the two masters remembered how to exist after such a beating by Billie, they crawled back into their chairs. Most of the Whalers had gone, either to bed or to goof around or to any of the duties that they may have. Some of the ones who had stayed were mostly helping clean up, it appears that the fight for the last roll happened at most of the table. Groaning Morrison stood, he had nothing else to do for several hours, so he was going to get as much sleep between now and then. Waving goodnight as Thomas, who halfheartedly returned the gesture he made his way to the barracks, transversing this time.

A few hours before dawn he awoke. Naptime was over, it’s time to put some rookies through hell. He forced himself out of bed and searched around for his boots. Eventually he found them, but he had to give up and use void gaze to find them. Finally dressed and ready it was time for his favorite part of training, Morrison kneeled down and grabbed a pot and wooden spoon. He then walked over to the area where his recruits were sleeping, and of course, all of them were still out like a light. Not for long. He quietly held the pot and the spoon over his head, poised and ready.

“RISE AND SHINE MY LITTLE DUMPLINGS” Morrison yelled banging the pot with the spoon as hard as he could “TIME TO GET UP WAKEY WAKEY”

The groans of the recruits filled the room but were quickly drowned out by the pot as Morrison continued his relentless attack on their sleep. A couple rolled right out of their bunks and landed on the floor now very much awake and jumping up to attention.

“Now that you’re all awake.” Morrison said, his smile visible even under his mask “From here on out I expect you to be at the training field at this time every morning.”

Groans sounding a lot like “yes sir” filled the room, and it was good enough for him as he transvered out. He waited there for them as they soon followed suit, several very tired but also very alert Whalers-to-be stood in formation before him.

“I have brought training swords, we will begin teaching you _proper_ ways to fight. I’m sure you’ve had experience in swordplay before you came here, that’s not the point, chances are you’ll need refinement and every morning at this time you will be training with the sword.”

Rather quickly everyone had a sword, most seemed giddy at the idea of swordfighting, probably figured that it’d be easier than tethering. At least it didn’t have to have a lengthy explanation about how to do it. Since there was only one of him they’d have to start from the ground up. They stood in line, awaiting orders, loosely holding their swords.

“Do any of you _actually_ know how to hold a sword?” Morrison ask in disbelief in what he was seeing “None of you have a grip that would show you’re prepared for battle, you wouldn’t be ready to play Graces with that posture!” instantly all of their grips suddenly became stronger, but he knew that this wasn’t proper “If you’re holding with all your strength stop. All you’re doing is expending extra energy, when in combat you’ll need every last bit you can get, hold the hilt _firmly_ not like you’re trying to strangle it” Slowly, he could see them all relaxing. “Now, when you are in battle you need to be able to assume your position, you might not think a battle stance is necessary but it’ll allow for you to better protect yourself and more importantly your vulnerable locations. Who saw the fight between Billie, Thomas, and I?” No one moved, one hand slowly went up “And who knows why Thomas and I lost?” and there it went “Thomas lost because Billie punch him in the throat, that is without a doubt the most universal vulnerable location. In normal self defense terms it is considered an “extreme” because of it’s potential to kill, yes, simply punching your opponent in the throat can kill them so be careful about it.”

“What about you sir?” A small feminine voice piped

“What was your name?” Morrison asked giving her a glance over his shoulder

“Everhart sir”

“Well, Everhart, I lost the fight fairly early on for one good reason.” He turned to face them “All of my vulnerable locations were exposed. This allowed for both Billie and Thomas to kick me square in the chest, and as you could have guessed this knocked the wind out of me.” They seemed to be following along, and seeing no more questions he continued “Now, having your vulnerable locations pulled away in the stance I’m about to show you is a _defensive_ stance. This is for when you’ve gotten in over your head and need to get away, this stance will not win fights this stance is to get you _away_ from a fight.”

They spent the next few hours perfecting the art of defense. First they needed to get their balance right, there was no point in drilling a stance into them if it was only going to serve to knock them over once they got into a fight. Once he was satisfied with this, he moved on to attacks. “Lunge!” he called out, and they’d jump forward with their blade. “Fade!” and they’d leap back, “Pivot!” and they’d turn 180 degrees to the direction he called. There was an air of disappointment amongst the recruits, they were all hoping to have crossed swords with someone that day, as a result their movements began to slow. To their luck Morrison had decided that was enough for now.

“Freeze! That’s enough for now. Turn your swords in and you are dismissed.” He waited long enough for them all to have returned the swords and transverse away before following suit himself.

Landing himself in the mess hall he took his spot back next to Billie and Thomas. For once he was early enough that whoever was assigned kitchen duty today hadn’t brought out breakfast. Thomas was nursing a black eye, probably from the fight over the roll. Billie looked like she was remembering how to be a person and somehow managed to find coffee in her zombie like state. Both seemed absolutely ready to eat.

“Who’s on kitchen duty today?” Morrison asked

“Don’t know, think Kieron is in there though” Thomas mumbled

“By the void” Morrison muttered, Kieron was not the best cook by any stretch but he wasn’t the worst

“Pickford went in there when I came in” Billie said through her coffee

“At least someone with cooking skills is in there today” the trainer said

“Agreed” the two zombified whalers mumbled

The three sat in silence, sipping on their coffee trying to prepare themselves for the day. Even though Morrison was wide awake he was very much ready to crawl back into bed. Shortly after the food started be brought out Rulfio came into the dining hall, plopping himself down in the chair next Morrison and assuming an equally tired posture as his comrade.

“Training that rough?” Thomas asked

“It’s... difficult.” Rulfio said “But they’re getting it.”

“One of mine pelted themself in the face with sandbag during an exercise” Morrison stated

Billie choked on her coffee and Thomas let out an ugly snort, Rulfio looked at Morrison with an expression that simply said “explain”

“I was teaching them how to tether, and one got a little too excited about it and it went BOOF against their face” Morrison chuckled

“One of mine slammed against the wall while tranversing, up until that point he hadn’t quite gotten that it’s not teleportation. I’m certain he understands that now.” Rulfio’s eyes started to glaze over as he spoke “is there any coffee left?” he mumbled

“You missed a hell of a fight last night.” Morrison said sliding the pot towards his fellow trainer

“Oh? Against who?” Rulfio asked pouring himself a cup

“Myself, Billie, and Thomas”

“Now that was your first mistake Morrison, I thought you knew better than that” he laughed as he took his first sip of the life saving brew

“With all due respect Rulfio, there was a roll on the line” Morrison defended

“Mmm and who was cooking last night again?”

“Javier I believe was one of them in there”

“Well then, in that case you should have fought harder” he said taking another drink

“He’s not wrong Morrison, you must not have wanted that roll to have gone down after one kick.” Billie said

“Two, thank you, Thomas also kicked me.”

“Thank the Outsider _finally_ breakfast is here” Thomas said sitting up

Several Whalers came bearing gifts of food, many carrying several platters at once and sliding them down their arms. The smell of cooked meat hit everyone, there were so much to choose from and everyone had to choose fast. The bread came and went it slide down the table, it was tossed so everyone present could get at least one. Down the line whalers passed bowls and plates of various potato meals, mashed, baked, as many ways as the “chefs” could think to cook for the gang. This morning was a godsend to them all, as the food was quickly disappearing. Morrison was happy to eat in silence as it was still far too early to have a real conversation until he noticed something, none of his trainees were here. Putting his fork down he stood up to get a better look at the table, he saw Master Blue and then Novice Grey but no trainee accents on any of them. Sitting back down he tried to think of where they could be.

“Something wrong Morrison?” Rulfio asked, seeing the obvious display

“Is any of yours here?” Morrison asked

“Mine?”

“Yes, your trainees, none of mine are here and I didn’t see any Trainee Green.” Morrison’s said seriously

Rulfio dropped his fork and stood, looking for any signs of either squad “Fucking hell, this already?”

His normally calm demeanor gone, the two shared a look. They knew what was next. Time to flush them out. Wordlessly they transversed to their respective training areas, Morrison found two of his five. Practicing tethering of all things.

“And just _what_ do you two think you’re doing?!” Morrison barked as he stormed up to the two

“Sir!” the two snapped to attention

“It is 8am and I’ve yet to see _either_ of you in the dining hall!”

“Sir, it’s because we wanted to better our magic sir!”

“I am not your father but by the void I am your instructor.” He loomed over the two “It is _my_ duty to ensure that all new recruits are fully capable of being sent out on _any_ mission Master Daud needs them to.”

“Sir we just”

“Don’t _sir_ me Everhart, have either of you eaten since Daud granted his abilities to you?” Silence from both of them “Answer me”

“No sir” they answered sheepishly

With a deep breath Morrison tried to calm himself, ‘ _they’re just kids_ ’ he thought ‘ _barely old enough to enlist_ ’ “Listen. We all think that because of what we can do, we’re unstoppable. We’re not, if you overstep yourself you _will_ die, do you understand me?” Silence from both of them “Part of that, is eating when we’ve got food. Magic is hard on you when you use it like we do, you need to take care of yourselves.”

“Yes sir” they said quietly

“Now, find your squadmates. Tell them to get their asses into the dining hall, and I expect you in there at _every_ meal time. Is that understood”

“Yes sir!” They snapped a salute and transversed away

Returning to the dining hall Morrison was able to see ten whalers with Trainee Green, he smiled they were both able to find their idiots. They were laughing with other Novices, many telling stories about their first missions, some telling the newbies horror stories and the others telling them not to worry as long as they remember their training. As he sat down he saw Rulfio returning to his seat as well, the two shared an exasperated but happy smile. Yes, these were some idiots, but these were _their_ idiots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dad 76 yelling for various people to "get over here and get some nutrition" inspired this chapter. It was mentioned that the Whalers think that they're stronger than they are and that many of them aren't as afraid of Corvo as they should be, I figured this might go into some of the attitude that trainees would have shortly after getting Daud's powers. 
> 
> Baniere was poking fun at the fact that if you had the Summon Assassin ability you could summon a Novice by the name of Thomas, it could easily be the same person but there was some people saying you could have spoken to the Master Assassin and then summoned the Novice shortly after. Thomas is a common enough name that this could easily happen
> 
> "Trainee Green" was also an idea I got because while there may be only 10 of them between Rulfio and Morrison they still haven't quite learned who is who yet until they speak or say their names. It would be easier to keep track of them until they've graduated out and just have Novice Grey


	4. Death of a Whaler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mission gone awry and a Whaler's intell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whalers present: Tynan

This had to be one of the “easier” missions Daud had ever sent Tynan on, every mission had its difficulty but there were some that were more suited to novices than the masters at times. So of course it’s recon, no one is to die tonight and no one is to see you, at least the rain will help with that. He sat at the edge of a rooftop, spyglass out trying to see anything on the noble house they’re anticipating a hit on. Ground floor he could see what looked like guests meandering around, probably trying to get into each other’s good graces, and a few guards at various points. This was not going to be useful information for anyone who is to come here next time, a party is only useful if they’re going after a target  _ that night _ otherwise it leaves too much room for error. The amount of guards will change but by how much there’s no telling, the people would drastically decrease but the staff would have free reign of the house, none of the information tonight is going to be useful... unless. 

The whaler slowly began his descent, the party was clearly winding down as it was getting on into the wee hours of the night, many of the guests were very drunk or at least they had to be. He hoped. An estate like this always has a space for the guards  _ somewhere _ and it was just a matter of finding it. Tynan’s mission was to get any information that would aid the Whalers, and he is determined to not leave until he has  _ something _ to show for it. He creeped along the walls trying to keep out of sight, the closer he got to the building he realized that there was an open balcony door. Taking his chance he scaled the wall and slipped inside. 

Hoping beyond hope that this was the guard house it turned out he was right, this wasn’t lavish enough for the nobles who lived here, there’s too much grey and not enough pearly white and marble. Trying to step lightly he continued his way through, a schedule or  _ something  _ had to be around somewhere, most likely wherever the office was. Suddenly he heard the heavy stomp of the Watch, the oafs always announced their presence with a step so hard it could shake the world, but this time it sent fear through his being. There was nowhere to hide, the only choice he had was to turn back and hope no one had came behind him. He ran as silently as he could but he  _ quickly _ realized this was a mistake, right about the time he slammed into another guard. 

“What the?!” the guard said as the whaler bounced off of him

A pure terror overtook Tynan, he scrambled to get away internally screaming every swear known to him. Stumbling to his feet the guard started to yell about staying there but that was not something Tynan was even remotely interested in no sir no sir. He ran and ran and ran the guard house seemed suddenly a lot larger than he initially thought, he kept finding new rooms but the guard was hot on his tail and he kept finding him and he had barely enough time to hid before whoops there’s the fucking guard again. Racing away the floor became slick as Tynan tried to round the corner to get away and slammed into a cabinet knocking everything over and alerting  _ everyone  _ to his presence. 

“Oh no” Tynan whispered his shoulders falling as every guard within earshot was now looking at him and drawing their pistols 

He broke into another sprint, this time straight for the window, he didn’t care if there was a pack of hungry wolfhounds at the bottom there was enough time for him to get away if he was able to transverse to the other side of the street. What he didn’t account for, was the amount of power cables all on the floor between him and said window. 

“Don’t let him get away!” one of them shouted 

About half way there Tynan tripped he again scrambled to his feet trying to get away only to flop back onto the floor, his foot was tangled. ‘ _ No no no no no no _ ’ he screamed internally trying to get the cables and wires off and away from his leg. He heard the click of the pistol and his heart froze. Looking up he was greeted with the barrel of a gun. For a moment it looked as if the guard was going to say something, but in the silence Tynan was able to collect himself just enough to transverse away. The pistol fired as it appeared that the Whaler vanished into ash. 

Tynan only just barely got away, breathing heavily he cursed himself for not being more careful. Now they were going to have to waste more resources getting information and it was  _ his fault _ . ' _This was supposed to be an easy mission._ ' Tynan thought bitterly. He sat outside the estate walls for only a moment more, tonight couldn’t get any worse could it? At least, not till he tells Daud what happened.


	5. First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the two instructors were novices, they had to learn to cook just like everyone else, and there's no better bonding than through cooking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whalers Present: Morrison (oc) and Rulfio

Cooking duty, it was the one thing that all whalers dreaded when there was new novices. Granted there wasn’t that many but that didn’t change the feeling of unease as the two newest ones, Morrison and Rulfio, were assigned to it. The two could almost feel Billie ready to tell everyone to just skip out and try to steal food from somewhere nearby. Sucking it up they strided into the kitchen ready to face whatever challenge awaited. Morrison immediately went to see what equipment he had to work with whereas Rulfio went to see what ingredients there was.

“Well I say throw a tin of jellied eels into a pan and serve it up,” Morrison said absolutely satisfied with himself “It’s filling and it’s better warm than cold.”

“Are you...? Are you serious?” Rulfio asked incredulously

“Uh... yes??” Morrison responded fully confused

“No. We are  _ not _ just going to throw  _ jellied eels  _ into a frying pan and give that to everyone” 

“And why not?” he said already reaching for the can “It’s good enough”

Rulfio was about to lose his mind, on the one hand he  _ could  _ argue with Morrison about this  _ or  _ he could do it a smarter way. “And what? Prove Lurk right that it’d be easier to just steal from the aristocrats than take the meals we’d serve?” 

Morrison froze, there was few things he would be competitive about but he also was not about unnecessary risk. 

“What do you have in mind?”

“I have a plan” Rulfio said simply “Go get the biggest pot you can find”

That was all it took, and scarily fast he’d gone through every last piece of cooking equipment to find what he thought was the biggest pot, alongside an armful of utensils. They were ready. Quickly he threw water into it and left it to boil, gliding through the kitchen he gathered up all of the spices and began organizing them to get a better sense of when to use them. Throwing open the pantry he saw what was available, and thank the stars there was flour. A smile bigger than the moon he grabbed it all and threw it on the nearest counter. 

“Do you know how to make bread?” Rulfio asked Morrison, who’d just been waiting for orders 

“No I don’t.” he said flatly

“Come here, I’m going to teach you” he said waving the other novice over “Now, we don’t exactly have standard measuring cups or spoons so we’re going to have to guesstimate”

“Guesstimate?” Morrison asked suspiciously 

“Yes, I know  _ about  _ how much six cups of flour looks but without the proper tools I’ll have to guess a little over or under.”

Ignoring Morrison’s worried expression Rulfio carefully poured (dumped) the flour into the mixing bowl. Adding the yeast, sugar, salt, and oil he started to beat it until he saw Morrison carefully watching him in his peripherals.

“Now that I’ve got this part done, you can do this one.” Rulfio said handing it off to a surprised Morrison “All you’ve got to do is beat it until it’s smooth, once that’s done let me know and I’ll show you the next step.” 

Cracking his knuckles it was time for potentially the most difficult part of the meal tonight, the chickens. There were a few live ones in a different part of the base, they were largely for night's where someone was able to brave the journey to go get it, slaughter it, and come back to clean it. He took a peek at the water on the stove, it was warming up but not boiling yet, perfect that’d leave him with plenty of time to go get some chickens. 

“I’ll be right back! Just keep beating the dough!” Rulfio yelled as he grabbed his mask and ran out the kitchen

“Wait no! Come back! I need you-” Morrison’s voice was cut off by the door slamming behind Rulfio, he kept beating the dough in response, albeit a lot slower now. 

Rulfio raced through the base, dodging other Whalers and parts of the collapsing building to get to where the hens were. Shame Daud was thinking about getting rid of them, but it was getting hard to get them feed. All the better to have a chicken dinner tonight. There was maybe six of them left, but it was more than enough.

“Here chicky chicky chicky” Rulfio said creeping into the pen “Come on out, you have a very important mission.” 

The chickens have long since learned that some Whalers are not to be trusted, however since The Trusted One isn’t here, they kept running away from Rulfio. He chased after a decently sized bird, keeping pace but not catching up, it ran into the coop and poor Rulfio was much too focused on the bird itself than the surroundings. Resulting in a surprisingly loud cracking noise as he ran head first into the coop. He lay still for a moment, groaning at the in pain in his head. The chickens then started to walk on him and on stepped near his hands, and he snapped his hands around the bird’s legs and held it up.

“Aha! You little bastard!” Rulfio shouted “I got you now!” The real chase was now on.

Back at the kitchen Morrison was still beating the dough, he didn’t know when Rulfio was going to get back but by the void he hopped it was soon. The dough was starting to look more smooth but it was still very lumpy, and since Rulfio said “tell me when it’s smooth” he assumes this isn’t acceptable. Right about now Morrison was looking for a chair, beating the mixture while standing wasn’t something he wanted to do, however at the same time he knew that chances are the  _ second  _ he sits down Rulfio was going burst through the door and start giving him new orders. Not that he’d mind of course. The wait is what killed him, Rulfio left the stove on and every now and again Morrison checked on it. He didn’t know  _ what  _ the Whaler was making other than bread, and he was fairly certain that bread went in the oven, not a boiling pot of water. Mechanically moving his arm now he almost didn’t notice the mixing while he waited for some kind of instruction. The Whaler almost missed the Navy. He’d spent most of his youth on a boat in the service of the Empress and he didn’t regret one bit of it. This was such a drastic change for him, not only was it essentially a life of crime, it was a very strange brand of organized chaos. Daud didn’t seem to really care what each of them did as long as they were all still able to work. Who thought up the Duties list may not have been Daud, it could have been a collaboration of the existing whalers or it could have been Billies work. He didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure how they kept going. He checked the pot again, it was almost boiling, and he inspected the dough. It looked smooth, it was probably ready for the next step. About this time Rulfio burst into the kitchen holding three chickens.

Shocked and the sudden appearance of the Whaler had him revert to his Navy Behavior “The water is boiling and the dough appears to be ready!” 

“ _ Fantastic _ ” Rulfio said as he looked at the bowl’s contents “Now, I’m going to prepare these birds, what I need you to do knead the dough. You know how to do that right?”

“Of course” He said, absolutely certain that he had no idea what the hell that meant

“Fantastic, I’ll be over here if you need me” The Whaler said as he began plucking the feathers with incredible speed. 

The two worked diligently to get dinner made, once the dough was kneaded it needed to rise a bit. While it rose Rulfio had Morrison use more flour to make a different mixture this one took significantly less time to make and he used a spoon to “drop” it into the boiling water. While he was doing that he noticed that the chicken was already in the water and looked to be cooked. Morrison realized, he knew nothing about the kitchen, but Rulfio was a chef as far as he was concerned. A small smile creeped onto his face, he wouldn’t mind learning more from the man. He was a natural teacher. 

“Do you think this is enough?” Morrison asked, calling attention to the pot “Should I add more or no?”

Standing on his tip toes Morrison looked into the pot and then at the bowl “Go ahead and add the rest, we have  _ plenty _ of chicken to spare and balance it out”

“More guesstimation I take it?” Morrison asked dropping more of the dough into the water

“Exactly, you’ll get the hang of it.” the whaler said leaning against the counter “Assuming they let us cook again”

“What about the bread? I didn’t do anything after-” Morrison started

“Oh I put it in the oven while you were doing this, don’t worry” A lazy wave as he pointed at the oven where lo and behold, there was bread. “From the looks of it, we’re almost done.”

“We are?” Morrison looked at the pot and then the bread “Are you sure?”

“Oh of course! The bread will take a little bit but it’ll allow the dumplings to cool a little and we can let it simmer so it doesn’t get cold. Stir it some will you? We can’t let it get burnt” 

Out of all the things Morrison thought he would hate this most, but it wasn’t so bad. He’d heard other Novices complain about this but perhaps it was only because, none of them actually knew how to cook. He’d only just gotten out of his Greens and the whole time he’d had meals that even sailors might admit were bad. The few good meals there were he had to assume one of the more “worldly” whalers made it, then again, he suggested fried jellied eels, and Morrison could be considered “worldly”. Maybe Daud cooked. 

“Breads done!” Rulfio announced as he snatched it out of the oven “Now, let’s go tell everyone that dinner is served.”

The dinner bell was rung and the dining hall quickly filled with Whalers, many of which probably got off sentry duty and were just dying for something to eat. Their group was small, small for a gang anyway. Only twenty made it to the table, with a few who took it upon themselves to help set the table once they saw Rulfio with the bread and Morrison with the large pot. Already the whalers were starting to talk and laugh, sharing stories and jokes, while they ladled themselves Rulfio’s Masterwork. A flash of red appeared at the table, Master Daud himself sat among the men. All conversation stopped as they looked at him, his expression serious and posture stiff. 

“Well, let’s see what you two got.” he said picking up a bowl “What did you make?”

“Chicken and dumplings sir, as well as two loaves of bread” Rulfio’s bouncy tone from the kitchen gone, replaced with his formal garbage that he used to address their superiors. 

“It smells excellent, keep up the good work.” Daud said taking a bite of the dinner

Quickly the cheerful laughter and stories filled the mess again, Rulfio and Morrison taking a seat next to each other. Happy to share a meal that they’d worked hard to make, both silently hoped that if they were to get kitchen duty again, to get it with each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend started shipping Morrison/Rulfio after Nutritional Value so I told him that I'd write a fluffy chapter for the two for him


	6. Damn those Whalers! They Drive me to Drink!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the alcohol stores run low and needs to be replaced, the Whalers need to ensure that easy access to existing channels remain open.

The Distillery District. It’s mostly quiet, for the Bottle Street Gang anyway. They rule the alleyways of the district while the Watch rules the main streets. Having control of the distillery allows for a fair amount of coin to come their way, especially with the plague and people needing elixir but can’t afford to pay full price for a full dose. While they may have control of the alleyway, the Whalers may argue that they have the rooftops. One such whaler watched as two of the Bottles stood guard in front of the door to the distillery, and it happened to be essentially the only valid entrance, probably the Bottle’s doing. She took a breath, this was her first mission and what it amounted to... was a beer run. Probably good reason this kind of job was passed onto a novice but still, she was hoping to have some fantastic story like the others did. 

“Did you hear about what happened up at Coldridge?” one of the men asked

“About Corvo breakin out? That’s been all I’ve heard over the loudspeakers.” the second responded bored “What about it?”

“There’s no way he did it alone,” He started as the whaler, unbeknownst to him made her way down “that kinda place he needed outside he-”

“Good evening gentlemen” she greeted the two as she transversed in front of them. They both yelled in surprise and then stared at the whaler before them. Standing there waiting for their response

“Aren’t you a little far from the port?” the first asked

“I suppose, however what I want I can’t get at the port.” She took a few steps towards them and stopped, not wanting to provoke them

“What  _ do  _ you want then.” the statement was a warning, if the Whaler didn’t leave soon, she would regret it.

“What I want, is something very simple, and only you and yours could provide” She was trying very hard to keep her voice even, being semi-formal was the only answer to her. 

The second Bottle looked at the Whaler for a moment, absolutely confused “A good fuck?”

“I... what?! No!” She said taken back “Alcohol! Whiskey, Brandy, whatever you’ve got!” Taking a moment to compose herself she looked the second dead in the eyes “And besides, if I wanted to have a good fuck, I’d try back at base. You haven’t  _ lived _ until you’ve been fucked by a Whaler”

The first let out an ugly snort as he doubled over laughing while the second turned a very bright red. From embarrassment or anger the Whaler couldn’t say, but it was worth it.

“Alright so you want booze, tell me why you’d have to come here for it” He said with barely restrained anger

“Well my good man, as you can probably tell I am not a woman who’s been on the right side of the law as of late. Adding to the fact that it is  _ probably  _ three am there’s no way for me to obtain said booze without trying to steal it.” 

“So, what exactly do you plan on doing” they both had the air of irritation

“I wish to buy whatever I can from you, Daud’s orders” 

Finally. It clicked. This wasn’t just some whaler from the port, this was a Whaler. One of Daud’s, one of those who dabbled in the dark and forbidden arts. 

“I... I uh, you’ll have to talk to Slackjaw about that.” Nervousness suddenly gripped them both

“Then may I speak to Slackjaw” Her voice remained even trying to counterbalance the sudden tension 

“Not that I don’t believe you’re here on account of Daud, how can we know that you won’t just kill him?” 

“Because if I kill him then I can’t get the booze, seriously would you just  _ hand _ over whatever I asked for and let you just assume that Slackjaw cleared this? No, Daud likes order and I take it Slackjaw does to.”

The Bottles looked at each other, on the one hand this is a Whaler and if she was here on orders of Daud, then she’s getting in regardless of if they say she can. At the same time they can’t just let her in, no one will know she’s got business with the boss. The one nodded to the other, seemingly coming to a decision

“Follow me” he waved for her as he went in the door

They walked through the Distillery, the Whaler trailing close behind the Bottle as he guided her right to Slackjaw. She elected to ignore the confused looks they got as they passed, wasn’t every day you see a Whaler. They walked through the factory and down a set of stairs before coming to what she assumed to be the Boss’ office

“Wait here” the Bottle commanded before entering

She stood outside the door, it wasn’t hard to hear since there was no walls really between them

“And you just  _ let her in? _ ” Slackjaw growled

“She’s here on business, from Daud, with all due respect she was probably getting in anyway” Fear gripped him, and the novice wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of. His boss or the assassin at the door.

“Let me speak to her.” Slackjaw said after a moment of silence

The bottle turned and waved her in and as he left she entered, giving him a sympathetic glance before remembering that he couldn’t see it. She took out the coin purse that Daud gave her, and placed it on Slackjaw’s desk.

“I’m sure you don’t want me here, so I’ll make it quick” Slackjaw raised an eyebrow at her abrupt statement “Daud wants as much high proof alcohol as this can buy. This is also payment for transportation near the Wrenhaven, we can get it back to base, we just need it to be place just outside the District.”

Slackjaw eyed the Whaler, he leaned in close and stared past her mask, wrinkling his nose in disapproval. Straightening out he picks up the coin purse and starts counting, slowly taking out the coins and organizing them.

“You have a deal, however if I could have you send a message for me to your boss” Irritation was not hidden in Slackjaw’s voice “I do not appreciate him sending his new recruits to us as a test, and the next one better not be wet behind the ears like you”

Everhart stiffened she hoped it wasn’t so obvious that she was new to all of this, but Slackjaw didn’t get this far in life by not being able to tell apart the experienced from the amateurs. She was almost ashamed of herself. Shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other she knew she had to respond.

“I will pass it along to him, sir. When can we expect delivery?”

“Few weeks time, if it hasn’t been claimed in a couple of days, we’ll assume this was a generous donation” Slackjaw said evenly, not taking his eyes off his task

“Thank you” She saluted him and began her journey home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit dialogue heavy, but this is a rather good break for the Whalers given what happened last mission


	7. The Floor is Lava

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When it rains it pours and when the Whaler's are bored they jump on the furniture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whalers Present: Billie Lurk, Rulfio, Thomas, Miles, Jeffery, Pratchett

A storm had moved in over Dunwall. This meant that any Whaler who wasn’t on Sentry Duty or wasn’t out with Morrison or Rulfio training was inside doing dick all. Some were sleeping, some were pretending to be busy, others were reading, all were bored out of their minds. There was a air of “why isn’t there another job???” amongst them due to the fact that no one had left the district for a week. Four Whalers laid in their bunks in the barracks, Pratchett was sleeping, Jeffery was reading The Young Prince of Tyvia, Miles was fiddling with his knife. The room was silent, aside from Miles’ knife and Pratchett’s snoring. The sound of the rain was calming, and Jeffery was about to follow Pratchett’s lead. That is until Billie Lurk burst into the room and without a word leapt onto Pratchett’s bunk. Immediately he was awake and there was muffled screams from his bunk as the other Whalers laughed. She sat on the other end while the novice caught his breath

“Lurk,” he said looking at her tiredness thoroughly coating his tone “what the fuck”

“Floor is lava, loser” she said pushing him off the bed with her feet 

Before he could question what was going on the previously quiet room was now filled with Pratchett’s frantic screams to climb back onto his bed, grabbing for his blanket and the frame before falling and landing in the bunk below. Miles and Jeffery couldn’t stop laughing, Pratchett got himself situated on the bunk before looking at them bitterly.

“Pratchett I wish I coulda seen your face that was just priceless” Miles said weak with laughter

“You heard the boss” he said “Floor is lava” 

Before Miles could respond the fallen Novice had launched himself at the bunk he was sitting on, and unfortunately for him he was already sitting on the bottom bunk. The two began wrestling for control on the bunk, Miles grabbed Pratchett by his coat and tried to throw him to the floor. Pratchett locked Miles into a bear hug, determined that if he was going down, so was Miles. The fight to stay on the bed and throw the other off looked hilarious to Billie, who began laughing at the display. 

“Pratchett! Miles!” a familiar masculine voice barked “What is going on here?”

The two looked at each other for a moment before answering “Floor is lava, sir”

“Floor is...” the Master assassin couldn’t believe them “I thought you were better than this, let  _ me  _ show you how to play floor is lava”

Now they  _ had  _ to play. A game of Floor is Lava was already fun with Billie, but add Rulfio to the mix and this was going to be a wild ride from start to finish. The Whalers all leap to the top bunks and began jumping from one to the other, when it looked like it was becoming easy. Billie and Rulfio would pull the beds farther from each other, the gap between became more and more difficult to jump but Jeffrey was not about to get one upped by a Screamer and a Try Hard. He leapt from the bunk towards an empty one, time seemed to slow down while he was in mid-air. Just as he was about to reach the bed, he could have sworn it was being pulled away, he looked up to where Billie was crouched and there she was. Tethering the bed, and pulling it just out of his grasp.

“No no no no no no” He said flailing wildly trying to grab the bed, ultimately failing and falling to the floor with a loud thud

The others laughed harder than when Pratchett nearly fell out of bed screaming. Just as Jeffrey was sitting up he could see something bad starting to happen, Pratchett was leaning back just a little  _ too _ far while he laughed. While he remembered what it was like to breathe without pain in his chest, he watched as Pratchett tumbled off of the bunk. But the thump never came, instead it was a constant stream of swears while Billie began to laugh harder and Rulfio was just  _ baffled. _

“By the Outsider Pratchett” Miles said taking off his mask to wipe away the tears “How did you manage that”

“Mother  _ fuck  _ this hurts!” the sounds of Pratchett flailing and slamming against the bed frame was just audible over his swearing 

“Pratchett...” Rulfio said, weak with laughter “Don’t... don’t struggle like that you’re only making it worse”

Miles took this opportunity to jump to the bunk adjacent to the one the two had been sitting on. Then the loud thud came, followed quickly by Pratchett loudly yelling fuck. 

“If you broke your ankle Daud’ll be pissed” Jeffrey laughed 

“Oh no worries, just tie some sticks to it and I’ll be right as rain!” Pratchett said limping back to his bunk, probably to resume his nap

“Do you have,  _ any  _ survival instincts?” Miles asked amazed that the Whaler would even  _ say _ that 

“Who know” He said as he flopped back down onto the bed “And then there were three”

Indeed, there were three. Billie, Rulfio, and Miles. They rushed each other but Billie pulled back at the last moment, grabbing onto a bed frame and climbing onto the top bunk while Rulfio and Miles crashed into each other. Or more accurately, Miles bounced off Rulfio while the Instructor gracefully landed into a lower bunk. 

A staredown ensued. Billie was not going to lose to Rulfio, and neither was he going to lose to her. The two stared, watching, waiting, they weren’t going to move until the other did. Just as they were about to jump, yet another Master walked in

“Erm... what is going on here?” Thomas asked, thoroughly confused 

“Mmrph ivvf lllvvvvaaaaa” a muffled voice came from Jeffery’s pillow

“Pardon?” Thomas asked the Whaler even more confused now

“The Floor is Lava” he said sitting up “Billie and Rulfio are the last ones left”

Thomas looked over to them to see the two bouncing from bed to bed, one would take one jump forward and the other would jump one bed back. They’d keep an equal space between them, however Thomas distinctively remembered a certain bread roll he wanted at dinner.

“Lurk! Do you have those reports that I asked for?” Thomas yelled, knowing full well those reports had already been delivered to him hours ago 

She took her attention off Rulfio for a split second while Thomas addressed her, because of it she misjudged the space behind her and ran out of bed. Just in time for Rulfio to jump at her and take them both down. Somehow during the fall, Rulfio still ended up on the floor first, with Billie on top of him. She wasn’t going to lose, not even with Thomas’ distraction. She stood and dusted herself off, giving a quiet wave as she left. Probably to go to the dining hall or one of the training rooms. Rulfio laid on the ground, groaning as not only landing on the floor knocked all the wind out of him, all of Billie’s weight landing on him was only extra hurt. 

“I see you have found a new home, I’ll leave you to that Rulfio.” Thomas said leaving “I just wanted to know what the noise was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daud most likely doesn't really care what the Whalers do in their free time as long as they're able to still work when he calls upon them. The Floor is Lava is the perfect game


End file.
